


A Longing for Simpler Times

by JeevesBun



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Adult Content, F/F, Female Ejaculation, Female Solo, Garreg Mach Monastery (Fire Emblem), Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Plushies, Post-Time Skip, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:33:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28069350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeevesBun/pseuds/JeevesBun
Summary: Upon her return to Garreg Mach, Bernadetta discovers that while many things have changed in the last five years, some remain blissfully the same.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Bernadetta von Varley
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	A Longing for Simpler Times

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first upload on Ao3! I'm a veteran writer of many years primarily in the furry fandom, but when FE:3H came out I made a rare exception and wrote this piece about my favourite character. Felt like the right time to share it here!

**A Longing for Simpler Times**

**by Jeeves Bunny**

Five years.

It had been five years since Bernadetta had last stood before these doors. Her hand trembled as she reached out to touch the familiar wood, then slipped the iron key from her pocket and tested the lock.

_Click_.

Still locked, until now at least. Sealed away all this time. But, had it really gone unopened since she and the other Black Eagles had fled five years ago with Ede-... with the Emperor at their side, or had it simply been closed off after the church and their allies had ransacked it in search of Imperial secrets?

To the young archer's surprise though, as the door to her former bedroom at Garreg Mach creaked open, there was no sign of her chamber having been disturbed. No furniture flung aside in a hasty search of the room by the Empire's enemies. No books lying moth-eaten and torn to shreds for bedding by rats. Just a delicate coating of dust over everything she had left behind when they fled. Bernadetta looked around, a few Imperial soldiers still running back and forth as they re-secured the monastery following its capture, but no-one seeming to notice her. No-one looking for Bernie. She smiled wearily, stepped inside, and after hastily lighting the lanterns; the oil within stale but still ready to burn, she closed the door... and locked it behind her.

Bernadetta flopped down onto her bed, and after sneezing at the initial dust cloud that rose off her sheets, she giggled, and sighed as she sprawled out and felt the familiar texture of her sheets and her mattress beneath her. She looked over at the door, key in the lock half turned so no-one, not even someone with a key themselves could enter, and trembled in relief. For the first time in so long, for the first time in five years, she felt safe again. The Professor was back, and they were back. Home again.

“Home...”

Bernadetta murmured as she reached behind herself and pulled her pillow down to cuddle it tightly, rolling over onto her side and all but spooning the comfortable, feather-stuffed cloth. Back when she'd been at the monastery as a student, she had been so scared all the time. But, looking back over everything she had seen and done over the last five years, Bernadetta knew with hindsight how happy she had been here. Without that year she never would have been able to survive the last five, and though it had indeed only been a year, she had spent the last half a decade feeling an absence. A discomfort more acute than her myriad every-day anxieties which arose each time she lay down to sleep whether in a military encampment or back on the Varley estate, and yet one which was utterly absent now.

“Oh, Bernie...”

She murmured to herself, cuddling the pillow closer, sandwiching it between her arms and her thighs as she raised her legs towards her chest.

“...you spent so much time here. Hiding, yeah... but, other stuff too. Writing. Singing. Sewing. Eating. Mmm... the dining hall's food always tasted so much better at midnight. A-and...”

Her cheeks flushed as her memories danced over another pastime she had enjoyed greatly while at Garreg Mach. One she had never been afforded the privacy to experience much while on the Varley estate, and which there certainly had been no time for when out with the Imperial army. Trembling, giggling bashfully even though these thoughts were hers and hers alone, Bernadetta glanced up to where her pillow had been resting, and squealed with giddy embarrassment at what rested above the sheets, no longer concealed in the pillow's absence. A smooth, perfectly varnished wooden dildo. Not thick, but quite long and with the most perfectly rounded tip. No-one had known who the master carpenter who produced such objects for the occupants of the monastery, students and teachers alike, had been. But, Bernadetta had visited them many times. Many, many times. She never went into town so she always had a good allowance to spend, and with that craftsperson's able assistance, she had made many a purchase.

Letting go of her pillow, Bernadetta scooted herself around onto her belly, then leaned down over the edge of the bed, feeling the blood rushing to her head and her hair inverting, tumbling back into more of its former tangled arrangement than the new, more formal style she had been adopting lately. She found herself breathing heavily as she pulled from beneath her bed a metal lockbox, and after settling it upon the sheets Bernadetta slipped off the bed and across the room to one of her bookshelves. Her hands pulled aside a book whose spine was utterly uncreased and whose gilded title read ' _The Wallflower Wilts, the Bold Rose Blooms; a treatise on becoming a more confident you._ ' and from behind it, tucked away in a groove carved by a whittling knife into the back of the shelf, she pulled out a smaller key.

In a moment she was back upon the bed, and the chest was open before her flushed face and visibly rising and falling chest.

“O-oh... oh my goddess, there you are...”

She whimpered, eyes travelling over the dozen or so toys held within; some larger, some smaller, some stylised to resemble various male penises while one even bore ridges and a flared base, supposedly modelled after the penis of a type of demonic beast. What immediately garnered the majority of Bernadetta's attention however was not a toy in the more adult sense, but a stuffed bear in grey knitted armour designed to resemble chainmail. Her face burned crimson as she lifted it up, and found wrapped around its waist one of her last craft projects from before the war. A fabric harness currently unoccupied but made to house one of her favourite toys, indeed the very one that she had found her her pillow.

Bernadetta had noted the bear's absence the second she entered the room, but now she remembered why it was here. She remembered probably the last time she had pleasured herself in Garreg Mach, riding the gift from her dear teacher and clutching at her mouth to keep from screaming when Ferdinand had rapped upon her door and warmly informed her that it was time for them to prepare for their latest mission. The door had been locked of course, but still in her panic, in her fright Bernadetta had stuffed the toy under her pillow, the bear with its stained fur and harness into the lock-box lying open by the bed, and had hastened to tell Ferdinand that she was coming... though in fact she hadn't even managed to once on that particular occasion.

Shaking and blushing, Bernadetta moaned audibly as those memories from five years ago fell back into place with total clarity, and a thought crossed her mind. A shameful, unbelievably selfish thought... but one which in this place, safe, secure, alone at last, Bernadetta would allow herself to have with only the smallest possible quantity of guilt.

She hadn't gotten to climax back then. Her last time at Garreg Mach had been interrupted. And, as she had learned in many a tactics lesson both from her Professor here and from Hubert, Ferdinand and Petra when they had conducted such lessons of their own, it was never wise to leave a situation unresolved and incomplete.

' _Loose ends will do more than trip you, if there is a dagger in the darkness where you may fall._ '

Bernadetta shuddered as Hubert's cold voice rang in her ears, but with a groan of desire, she took his words to heart. After five years, she could finally resolve this particular incomplete situation from her past. And, in a time of war where morale was everything, any victory was one worth seeking.

“Silly Bernie...”

She murmured to herself with a giggle as she began to disrobe, trying to be slow and methodical so that she could keep her clothes folded and make it less obvious that they had been removed and re-donned later, but finding herself increasingly impatient as more and more soft, pale skin became bared to the safe, private walls of her room.

“...you don't need a reason. You don't need an excuse.”

This mantra was one she had told herself many, many times before. Whether it actually helped combat her anxiety or embarrassment regarding her desire for self pleasure was debatable, but as Berndetta thought back to just how much time she had spent here in this room naked and writhing in ecstasy at the behest of her own hands or her toys, she wondered if maybe it had helped her more than she realised. After all, there were very few things that Bernadetta was willing to admit that she was good at. But, when it came to masturbation... when it came to making herself cum not just once, but over and over and over again until either she was disturbed or too exhausted to go on, Bernadetta had been the absolute champion.

“Naughty Bernie, locked away in your room all those hours of every day. People thought you were hiding. Tucked away in a corner drawing or sewing or talking to your plants. If they knew...”

Bernadetta whispered to herself as the last of her clothes fell away, and she ran a hand down her body, smooth, smooth, _everything_ so smooth. Even after returning to her father's estate and finding almost no time for intimate pleasures under his ever critical eye, Bernie had continued to keep herself shaven. It had been, in its own way, an act of rebellion. Her father wanted her married, and with child. But she could never let any of his suitors see that she kept herself like that, smooth and soft for her own pleasure with no consideration for decorum or the preferences of another. And thus she ensured she was always utterly hairless between her legs, so she had one more reason to never, _ever_ let one of her father's choices take a single look at her.

“If they knew how horny you were... h-how shameless...”

Her mind reeled with memories as she fell back to the bed, cuddling the stuffed bear in the crook of one arm and reaching for her favourite toy, feeling its familiar smoothness against her fingers and groaning in joyous relief. She had done this so many times. Five or six days a week, Bernadetta had genuinely spent _hours_ locked in her room in the ceaseless, wild throes of masturbation. Forgetting all her fears in those heady moments of climax for which she strived so desperately, and the wild fantasies which rose between them in which she was strong and sexy like Catherine, Lewd and wild imaginings in which she was immune to pain both physical and emotional, and utterly irresistible to her fellow students, the knights, the teachers... and, in particular, her Professor.

Right now though, there was no-one else in Bernadetta's head. No fantasy partner, no-one for her fictionalised self to impress or entice. She buried her face in her bear, and through the must of age she quaked, and cried out into its well stuffed body as she smelled the long stale scent of what was unmistakably her own arousal. Her own wetness having long since suffused the toy's fabric, and remained there as a lingering echo of her bliss all this time.

“Oh, Bern...”

She moaned to herself indulgently, giddily as she ran the smooth head of that wooden toy back and forth across her clit, her body responding violently to its touch after so long with only her hands and the occasional assistance of a hairbrush to aid her. Swiftly though the toy sought deeper reaches, grazing against her body's wet, welcoming opening before eagerly sliding in. Lying upon her back with her knees drawn up but legs spread-eagled, Bernadetta was glad of her bear as she held it to her face to muffle her screams. She only had to slide the dildo in and out of herself a couple of times to remember how she liked it. To remember why this toy was her absolute favourite. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and her legs kicked out, toes splaying and stretching as she began to work the toy in and out of herself, and felt it starting to tease and tantalise that sweet spot within her.

“Yess...”

She whined into the bear's soft belly, aware even with its muffling effects that every cry she let out increased her risk of being caught and humiliated, but unable and frankly unwilling to even try and restrain herself. It felt so good. _Too_ good. That spot, that incredible spot within herself that her fingers could barely reach but this toy seemed all but unable to miss, it drove her crazy. It made her not just fantasise that she was able to forget about her past and all the anxieties it had awoken in her, but it truly and sincerely made her put them aside. Her mind simply couldn't hold onto anything dark in the face of such overwhelming joy, and intense, all consuming pleasure.

“Ohhh goddess, Sothis s-save me... I'm gonna... a-aahh...”

Bernadetta attacked herself viciously with the dildo, and as she heard the wet slurp of her excitement ringing out what to her mind sounded louder than the church's bells, she knew that she was getting close. Never mind how long it had been since she had felt comfortable letting loose like this, doing anything more than subtly caressing herself to climax hidden under her sheets or even inside her clothes when she was able to steal a moment away from any potential onlookers, she hadn't been able to masturbate at _all_ for the last month. Over the last five years Bernadetta had probably only managed to make herself cum as many times as she might have in one _week_ at Garreg Mach, and while that spoke more to the sheer abundance of her self-pleasure at the monastery rather than just the infrequency of her self-stimulation since then, she was still desperate to make up for lost time.

“Mmnhh... h-haahhhhyess... yesssssss...”

She felt her orgasm rising. Building. Boiling inside of her like dragon fire. She drove the toy harder. Spread her legs wider. Primed herself to let it happen, to let it consume her. The dildo struck her g-spot over and over and over again, and each time it did so she felt her inner depths spasm violently and a fresh gush of liquids pour out over her smooth outer lips, her mound, and her already glistening, visibly trembling thighs. Though she wanted this to be about her, for her and her alone, Bernadetta couldn't help but shriek into the stuffed bear as for just a moment a crystal clear vision of Byleth, her beloved Professor pressing her tongue against Bernadetta's clit and beginning to feast upon her loins filled her head and suffused her senses. But that fantasy swiftly passed, and as Bernadetta finally pushed herself over the brink with a frantic flurry of strikes at her sweet-spot and an almighty, joyous squeal of rapture, it was herself and herself alone that she was thinking of.

She was safe.

She was alone.

She was in her room with her favourite toys.

And this time, though she had promised it to herself many, many, **many** times before... she was never going to leave, and she was _never_ going to stop!

“ **Yes!!** _ **Bernie**_ **!** ”

Bernadetta screamed to herself, the stuffed bear falling away from her face as her back arched, her eyes bulged, and she pressed both hands between her legs to hold the toy hilted within her suddenly spasming and convulsing pussy.

“You're doing it! Ohhhyessss, yessssss B-Bern!! Cumming! You're... oohhhhyesss, you're _squirting_ , Bernie!”

She shrieked giddily, gratefully to herself as sure enough, her pussy began to spray hot streaks of ejaculate out against her trembling and suddenly sodden fingertips. She thrashed, she wailed, she bounced upon the mattress and the creaky frame of her bed, and though there was absolutely no way in any world that her screams weren't echoing out for the whole dormitory block to hear, Bernadetta was so truly and sincerely happy amidst her shameless, decadent pleasure that she genuinely did not care.

*******

“Yes! Aaaahh... again! Mmmhh... more, Bernie! Good girl. Ooooohh good girl, again! Cum! _Cum!_ _ **Again! Yesssssss!**_ ”

The Professor and Hubert strolled past the dormitories, and paused as Bernadetta's latest screams rang out for all to hear, the guards working nearby to transport supplies up to what were going to become the council chambers red faced, but making no mention of what they could hear from behind that locked door.

“I took the liberty of ensuring that everyone who was previously resident here at the monastery knows that the old rules are in effect once again, and of informing the new soldiers of our protocol regarding the young Lady von Varley.”

Hubert nodded towards Bernadetta's door before regarding the Professor with his cold, dark eyes.

“I know we do not always see eye to eye on matters of security and morale, Professor. But, I thank you for entrusting me with this project. I will ensure that no-one ever tells Bernadetta how... widely known throughout the monastery her private activities truly are. It would harm her greatly to be denied this method of _personal therapy_ , and after all she suffered while growing up, it is only right that she be allowed the freedom of her own body at last.”

Another haggard, blissful scream erupted from behind Bernadetta's door, and though only the fainted tinge, the Professor smirked as she saw Hubert begin to blush. He saw her react, and was about to scowl when Bernadetta shrieked giddily at the top of her lungs...

“ _Professor!! Eat me!_ ”

…, and instead snorted with mirth as the Professor's own cheeks glowed scarlet.

“It seems even after five years, you remain a firm favourite amongst many of the Black Eagle house.”

Hubert teased warmly as they began to walk on, and leave Bernadetta to her third straight hour of masturbation.

“All jokes aside though, Professor... though we may all express it in very, _very_ different ways...”

Bernadetta's pleasure-stricken screams followed them as they walked on through the dormitory grounds towards the greenhouse.

“...I hope you know that we are all very glad to have you back in our lives. Every bit as glad as Bernadetta herself.”


End file.
